Charity Degrades Those Who Receive

Life Is A Slate Where All Our Sins Are Written; From Time To Time We Rub The Sponge Of Repentance Over It So We Can Begin Sinning Again.

Nature Distributes Her Favors Unequally.

I Regard As A Mortal Sin Not Only The Lying Of The Senses In Matters Of Love, But Also The Illusion Which The Senses Seek To Create Where Love Is Only Partial. I Say, I Believe, That One Must Love With All Of One's Being, Or Else Live, Come What May, A Life Of Complete Chastity.

My Strength Has Not Equaled My Mad Ambition. I Have Remained Obscure; I Have Done Worse -- I Have Touched Success, And Allowed It To Escape Me.

Be Prudent, And If You Hear, * * * Some Insult Or Some Threat, * * * Have The Appearance Of Not Hearing It.